


The Mama Bear Instinct

by orphan_account



Series: Mama Bear Remus [2]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders Being Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Dark Sides As Family (Sanders Sides), Gen, Parent Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Post-Episode: Putting Others First - Selfishness v. Selflessness Redux | Sanders Sides, Protective Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Swearing, Sympathetic Sides (Sanders Sides), Threats of Violence, and a mention of a corpse, both of these happen at the very end tho, but it's mostly remus being pissed and protective af, one mention of penises, oops??, the orange side is mentioned at the very end, there is one mention of a dead animal, this was meant to be funny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:28:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25637326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Who is the parent of the Dark Sides?It’s a question that’s been raised a few times, with arguably miserable results. Among the Light Sides, it becomes almost like a guessing game—examining each Dark Side to see which one presented as the most likely candidate for the job. When Virgil is accepted, the conversation becomes a rarity, as bringing it up would cause him to tense and hide away; and when Janus inserts himself into their small circle, the question is abandoned entirely. Consensus has it that Janus is the most probable, with Virgil being a questionable follow-up.And that would have been where the mystery remained had it not been for it being answered outright after the wedding incident.
Series: Mama Bear Remus [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1860142
Comments: 32
Kudos: 246





	The Mama Bear Instinct

It’s no question that Patton is the father figure of the Mind Palace. He’s built for the job; pre-programmed, as Logan might claim, to take on a paternal role and protect and care for the other sides as though they were his biological children. Heck, he’s even treated Thomas as his son, and though confusing and a bit uncomfortable at first, Thomas learned to navigate the strange nature of their bond because really, it’s just how Patton is. It’s a job he prides in, and it’s a job that, frankly, the others don’t dare try to take away from him. He’s happy being a father, and if that’s what makes him happy, then so be it; they’ll let him play the role (with a few mild complaints) to his heart’s content.

But this story is not about Patton.

It’s not about Patton because, even though he is the father of the Sides closest to Thomas, there are other Sides who don’t receive this treatment. At least, not by him, which raises the question: where _do_ they get it from? Who is the parent of the Dark Sides?

It’s a question that’s been raised a few times, with arguably miserable results. Among the Light Sides, it becomes almost like a guessing game—examining each Dark Side to see which one presented as the most likely candidate for the job. When Virgil is accepted, the conversation becomes a rarity, as bringing it up would cause him to tense and hide away; and when Janus inserts himself into their small circle, the question is abandoned entirely. Consensus has it that Janus is the most probable, with Virgil being a questionable follow-up.

And that would have been where the mystery remained had it not been for it being answered outright after the wedding incident.

It happens after Thomas has gone to bed and the excitement (if anger and disappointment can be counted as such) has settled down, the lights in the common room dim and the tension in the room, though still present, more relaxed than it had been hours before. Logan sits on the couch with a book in his hands, Virgil curled up on the other end of the couch with his headphones pressed over his ears and a fidget cube twisted around in his hands, and though they don’t so much as look at each other, Roman and Patton, too, have found a seat, faces pale and reflecting calm facades that fool absolutely nobody present. It’s calm; not quite peaceful, but still paving the road to something close to it.

And then there’s the sound of metal cracking against bone and Roman collapsing onto the floor, and the calm is immediately shattered.

The other three startle and instinctively move away from the fallen prince, shocked speechless. They watch as Remus, who’s hair and eyes have a noticeably wild appearance to them, catapults over the couch, hovering over Roman with an expression so fierce it makes the other Sides wince in sympathy.

Remus tightens his grip around his morning star, narrowing his eyes. “What the fuck did you do?”

Roman rubs the back of his head and groans, squinting up at his brother with a practiced annoyance that would be impressive in any other situation. “What?” is all he can manage to say, because what else _could_ he say with pain blooming like spiderwebs inside his skull?

Remus snarls at him, taking another step forward. His weapon remains held to his chest, but that doesn’t mean that can’t change at any moment, and its this awareness that pushes Roman to crawl back, wincing as he does so. “Why did Jannie come home in tears saying you laughed at his name?”

The heat drains from the room. The others can pinpoint the exact moment the words reach Roman’s ears by how much his face pales, hands shaking at his sides.

“It…it wasn’t like that.”

“Oh?” Remus growls, “Then what _was_ it like? ’Cause I gotta say, from what I heard, you’re already in hot water.” 

““I—I didn’t mean—”

“If you finish that sentence with ‘I didn’t mean to,’ I will make you wish the King never separated,” Remus hisses. Gaze snapping to Virgil so fast that the anxious side flinches, he says, voice piercing, “You think I didn’t hear about when you laughed at _his_ name and mocked _him_ during his introduction? You think I didn’t hear about how he nearly had a panic attack on camera because you and your fucking friends can’t go two seconds without insulting someone?” He raises his voice to a shout, “You think that you can just hurl whatever comes up in that pretty little head of yours at us and get away with it, _Princey_? Because if you do, I can hit a lot harder than you, and I am not about to stand here and listen to your excuses when you’ve caused two of my sons to come home crying over your petty bullshit!”

“Virgil had a panic attack during that?” Logan wonders aloud, voice faint.

Patton seems to have a similar reaction, turning to Virgil questioningly. Though, there’s a question, too, that he has, which comes tumbling out of him before he can stop it. “ _Sons_?”

Virgil messes with his sleeve, not meeting any of their eyes. His voice comes out in a mumble, “I’m fine now. It doesn’t matter anym—”

“It doesn’t _matter_?” Remus turns on him now, and if it wasn’t obvious before, the way Virgil shrinks when Remus addresses him is reminiscent of a mother scolding her child. “It doesn’t matter? Really? Because I remember it mattering a lot when it was happening to _you_. Does it suddenly not mean anything now that it’s happened to _Deceit_?”

Virgil’s mouth snaps shut. He doesn’t say anything.

Remus, on the other hand, doesn’t stop. “That reminds me—where were you when all of this was happening? Since when did the big, brave anxiety decide hiding in his room on a day where Thomas is bouncing-off-the-walls pissed was a good idea? You _knew_ that an argument was bound to happen— _why the fuck weren’t you keeping an eye on things?_ ”

Virgil lowers his head, mouth twisted shut. It’s hard to tell from the way his bangs hang in front of his face, but from the way his lips quiver and his eyes shine, he looks like he’s on the verge of crying.

The sight seems to sober the other side, however slightly, and Remus sighs, running his hand through his hair and lowering his morning star. He glares around the room, mouth pressed into a thin line.

“I don’t care what happened,” he says, in a tone that leaves no room for argument. “I don’t care what you were arguing about. I don’t care what you’ll argue about in the future—hell, I don’t even care if you all hate each other’s guts for the rest of our entire lives because of the shit you scream about when Thomas is around. But I swear, if I have to hear about any of you making my kids cry _one more time_ , you’re all going to pay, and the first one I go after is Thomas because I’m sure once I explain _why_ I’m giving him all of those bad-awful-no-good-thoughts, all of you will be in deep shit. Ya got it?”

Nods all around. Roman is slower to respond, but that could be because of his head wound.

“Good.” Remus turns to leave, and for a moment a strange, almost exhausted expression crosses his face, like as though at any moment he would collapse. But then the look fades, and when he looks up again his usual manic, energetic grin is plastered on his face, his eyes meeting Logan’s. “And for the record, Jannie’s in trouble, too. I heard about the silencing-and-nearly-tearing-out-your-neck bit; so, no worries there, Lo! He won’t do it again after a good timeout session.”

He sinks out, leaving the stunned Light Sides in shocked, still silence.

“Well,” Logan murmurs, a hand ghosting over his throat, “that certainly could have been more pleasant.”

Patton is the first to move, scrambling over to Roman’s side and ushering him back to his feet. “Oh, my good-golly gum-drops, are you alright?” he asks. He inspects Roman’s head, hesitantly touching it to see if there’s any permanent damage. “That looked like it hurt…here, maybe you should lay down—”

“I’m alright, Patton,” Roman interrupts, and nobody misses the lack of a creative nickname, but nobody is willing to mention it, either. The Side smiles, however strained it might be. “Just a headache—plus, it’s not like he knocked me unconscious this time. Small favors, right?”

“Yeah, but only because he wanted you to hear what he had to say,” Virgil mutters, picking at his nails.

“You know, _some_ optimism would be appreciated, Sourly-Temple.”

“Yeah, well, optimism isn’t really my _thing_.” He hesitates, biting on his thumb as he says, “But, uh…sorry, I guess. I wasn’t thinking earlier, and, well, obviously not showing up for discussion time wasn’t a good call—”

“Aw, Virgil, you don’t have to apologize for that!” Patton smiles at him, bitter and frail, and something about the way he says it makes the other fall silent. “It wasn’t your fault. If anything, it would have made Thomas’ anxiety worse.”

“Yeah,” Roman agrees, “it wasn’t our typical ‘round-the-fire chat, and…and I didn’t help matters any.”

Virgil snorts. “Yeah. Clearly.”

Roman’s expression twists. “I hate to say it, but—” a dramatic sigh, “—my brother is right. I was…I was too harsh on Dec—um, Janus. Even if he was being…infuriating.”

The room falls silent.

And then everything finally hits Roman, and he turns to Virgil, eyes widening, “Wait a minute—you’re my nephew?”

Virgil’s face turns bright red.

“Uh. Surprise?”

*

“…I can’t believe you yelled at them.”

Remus doesn’t look up from his phone, too focused on the penises he’s doodling to bother. “I can’t believe you compared me to my brother.”

Janus winces from where he lays on the floor, pointedly looking at the ceiling. It’s not like he can look in many other directions, really, being chained to the ground—which would be more uncomfortable than it actually is, except for the fact that the cuffs Remus used are padded, so the most ache he feels is in his lower back. Thank the universe for small mercies. “It was an easy jab.”

“There’s no reward in low-hanging fruit,” the other quips from his spot on the couch, his words ending with a cackle. “Though, I will give you some credit, he did seem awful down when I visited. Like a mutilated puppy!”

“ _Mom_.”

Remus hums. “…A…drowned corpse…with sad baby eyes?”

“Because that’s _totally_ better,” Janus rolls his eyes, “not disgusting at _all_.”

“Eh, well. You know me!” Remus wiggles in his seat, grin widening. “But seriously, Jannie, I get you like undermining the competition, but Tommy-Dommy isn’t one for carnage. Ya gotta learn how to make it look like a fair deal, even when it’s not.”

Janus frowns. “I did that—or did you forget about the courtroom?”

“Oh?” Remus taps away on his phone, “did you?”

Janus falters. Wilts. “I…well. Alright. Maybe not.” He pauses, testing his restraints. “How much longer are you going to keep me chained like this?” he asks.

“How long did you have Logan decommissioned for?”

Janus considers this. “Ten? Twenty minutes?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?”

“…Yes.”

Remus laughs, an amused glint in his eyes. “Let’s give it…another twenty days and then I’ll let you know, okay?”

The resulting hiss only makes him laugh louder.

As it turns out, Remus did not make Janus lie on the floor for twenty days—but, Janus _did_ have to clean the other’s room once he was let go, and honestly, that was a worse punishment. But hey, he didn’t give Logan the hook after that and he and Roman actually apologized to each other, so at least Remus’ methods had been effective.

Now, if he could just get his other son to reveal himself so he could see the viewers fall into chaos—but that’s a task for another day. 


End file.
